


Measurements

by sunflowerwonder



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (?), (brief) referenced homophobia, 1920s AU, 1920s France, Ex-Pat AU, Friendship, Lunch Dates, M/M, Pining, Unrequited, historical fiction - Freeform, literal dick measuring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13424622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwonder/pseuds/sunflowerwonder
Summary: American writer and France-dwelling expatriate Dirk Strider assists adventurer extraordinaire Jake English with a certain... insecurity.





	Measurements

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Ernest Hemingway's short story "A Matter of Measurements."

“I need to speak with you,” Jake says. The words fall out of his mouth faster than his lips seem to move. “It’s a matter of upmost measurement in all literal and figurative manners.”

Dirk hardly glances up from his newspaper, the garbled mess of French ink irritating his eyes as he attempts to wrap his head around the new language. Paris was as dauntingly unfamiliar as it was lovely. He turns a page.

“Good morning,” he nods from the open-aired cafe table he could be found at almost every morning, drinking coffee and picking at an overly sweet pastry.

“It’s almost noon,” Jake scolds.

“Such is life.”

“For lazy expatriates.”

“For the best of expatriates. I’ll have you know it’s an—”

“I’m hardly in the mood for your banter,” Jake says. His eyes shift back and forth along the patio lightly dusted with patrons. His posture is far more closed off than usual.

“…An unconventional lifestyle for an unconventional person,” Dirk finishes. He sets down his newspaper fully, giving up on the foreign gossip. “But tell me, dear Jake, what seems to be biting at you like the bugs of regret beneath the unfamiliar bed I slept in last night.”

“Don’t tell me your apartment sat empty again.” Jake huffs. “Do you want robbers? Because that’s how you get robbers.”

“This is Europe, land of kings. I’m here to conquest,” Dirk smiles, waving around his cup as if to note a larger audience. He takes a smug drink.

“Let’s pray to Jehoshaphat it was at least a woman this time,” Jake lets slip from from the side of his mouth. 

Dirk barks out a scoff straight into his coffee.

“I suppose you’d like me to be as shackled as your poor ring finger. Familiar misery and such,” he says. 

“Jane is lovely,” Jake states. His cheeks turn a deep red, memories washing over his face in real time. “The best, really. Have you ever considered that you go out on the prowl at night simply because you don’t have a Jane to go home to?”

“If she’s so heavenly why did you come here to complain about her?”

Jake’s face falls to a tight grimace. His eyes sweep the surrounding area yet again. “I’m not here to complain about my _wife_ , Strider. I’m here to, well, I’m simply—”

“What is it this time?” Dirk says, his voice tinged with a hint of a tease.

“Nothing!” Jake exclaims. “I mean, I suppose it is something. But in a way everything is something, isn’t it? If it exists it can’t be nothing. Or something like that, so…” Jake’s voice trails off as Dirk admires the imprecise but nonetheless lovely gears turning in his head. “Nevermind.”

“No, please, go on. Your fresh views on established philosophical outsets are fascinating.”

“Blast it. You’ve dragged me back into your wordy duels yet again.”

Dirk hums in approval.

“Just tell me what’s wrong with you and the honey. Is her family’s empire and shockingly devoted work ethic getting in the way of your travels again?” Dirk asks, waving his fingers as if at the invisible, objective situation before the both of them.

“We’re just,” Jake starts. He coughs, twice, and rings his hands on a vine-embroidered handkerchief he tugs from his coat pocket. “Well, we’re running into a few romantic gutters. Nothing major but—well, that’s actually what I wanted to discuss with you.”

“All romance flows to the gutters. That is my advice to you.”

Jake lets out a snort of breath, his cheeks still scarlet. “Yes, well, that’s very angst-ridden and aloof of you, but really, can we talk?”

Dirk casually gestures towards the patio seat next to him. Instead of taking the offer, however, Jake casts a quick glance towards the surrounding street. He eyes the strolling Parisians and listens in on their scattered chatter carried by the wind. His fingers twist against each other in nervous patterns.

“Not here,” he says. “Not so… Out in the open.”

Dirk rolls his eyes but remains relatively indifferent. He takes a final sip of his morning coffee and asks, “Lunch?”

 

•

 

They go about their lunch conversation rather normally. It’s a standard affair of freshly baked bread, fine cheese, and a few sliced, aged meats. Jake passes on a glass of wine, but by the continued flush of his cheeks Dirk wonders if he might have had something beforehand.

Dirk does not pry into the subject that instigated the lunch. He is quite content to carry breezy conversation over movies, trains, and recent travels to the more rugged French countryside. He humors Jake’s nervous penchant for storytelling. When Jake tells him of the time he rode an elephant in India Dirk can’t bring himself to let the other man know he’s heard the same story over lunch three times prior. It’s soothing, in a way. He enjoys the familiarity. Like casual brunch with an old lover. Not passionate, but enjoyable enough.

Only when his empty wine flute clicks against the table does Dirk finally bring up the expected.

“So,” he starts.

Jake pales. “Yes?”

“Are we going to address the reason for this summoning of likeminded brethren for council?”

Jake’s entire body slumps. His elbows collide with the table and he hangs his face in his hands.

“So,” Dirk says.

“Don’t rush me,” Jake replies.

“So,” Dirk says again.

“You’re rushing me!”

“So,” Dirk repeats, and Jake is forced to let out a groan.

“She,” Jake starts, then trails off into a mumble.

Dirk lifts an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“I said,” Jake replies, “She… Well she thinks I’m, uh.”

“You’re…?”

Jake looks as if he could die at any moment.

“Below-average,” he whispers, finally, letting out a weak cough.

Dirk stares at him.

“In the bedroom,” Jake elaborates, voice still wheezy. “Well, in the, you know, the bedroom area. Down below. Between the legs. In the warmth of the more intimate moments, she—”

“Thinks your dick is small.”

Jake flushes. “Well she put it in much kinder words than that.”

Dirk stares. Then, mouth curling around the edges, lets out the softest of abrupt snorts.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Jake cries, swatting him with a cloth napkin.

“Jake,” Dirk says, an air of laughter gracing his voice. “I’m sure your dick is fine. She probably just didn’t want to fuck you at the time.”

Jake’s ears flare an uncanny shade of beet. He hunkers down in his seat. “Shh,” he hushes. “Quiet down your voice. This is incredibly private.”

Dirk takes a sip of water this time, trying to keep from grinning around the rim.

“You’re so erratic,” he says when he finishes, voice significantly lowered. “Don’t be paranoid. I’m sure you’re finely endowed.”

“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it,” Jake mumbles. “She’s planted the seed of suspicion, and I’ve fallen right into the dastardly trap of watering it with worry.”

He rubs at a blushing cheek, as if that will make the color go away. Dirk stares passively, tracing each line of concern etched on his friend’s face.

“So,” he says.

Jake glances up. “Yes?”

“Let’s go to the bathroom,” Dirk finishes.

“And what, pray tell me, would we do there?”

Dirk nods at him. “I’ve seen my fair share of cocks. I know what comes in a standard package. If you want to put your mind at ease you can rest happily with the opinion of a professional.”

Jake splutters at his words. Coughs, once, twice, before reaching across the table to grab Dirk’s water and take a long sip.

“I,” he says, his tongue forming the start of dozens of words incapable of coming to fruition. “I just wanted advice on what I should think of the exchange, thank you.”

“Well I went a step further and offered you a solution.”

“Don’t be preposterous.”

“I think I’m being quite rational.”

Jake glances around his surroundings several times before planting his face directly into his palms.

“Are you sure that you’ll know,” he asks, quietly.

“Best judge in the country,” Dirk replies. “Give me ten seconds. Five, for you.”

He watches Jake’s chest heave a deep breath. Stares silently when Jake shakes his head in frustration.

“Fuck,” Jake says. His coarse language is muted by his embarrassment. “Fine. Yes. Tell me, Strider. Grace me with your expertise. But for god’s sake don’t follow me in there for a couple minutes. I don’t want to arouse suspicion.”

“You’re being paranoid again,” Dirk comments.

Jake huffs a breath of air when he stands up from the table.

“Three minutes,” he says.

“It’s a date.”

 

•

 

It’s an unbuckled belt and a swift pat on a bare thigh later that Jake comes blundering back to his table with a wide-eyed expression. Dirk slides back into his own seat, and motions for the check.

“I told you that you had nothing to worry about,” he says, looking over the bill.  
Jake refuses to make eye contact with the waiter who takes his dish.

“It’s actually fairly decent,” Dirk elaborates. “I’ve seen a lot worse. You shouldn’t be so quick to doubt yourself.”

“I wish you you wouldn’t mollycoddle me about,” Jake groans.

“I have a right to look after you. You’re my dearest friend.”

“Honestly, Strider. Keep inviting friends to look at manhoods in the bathroom and someone’s going to call you queer.”

Dirk shrugs passively, but doesn’t grace Jake with a response.

Jake waits, and when no words come he gives a sharp laugh.

“Oh come off it. You’re far too masculine.”

“Hm.”

“You’re devilishly experimental, sure. But you’re certainly not…” Jake can’t help but let his sentiment linger, figuring it best to stop talking.

“I am my thoughts. Nothing more.”

Jake stills himself. He looks for words. “You’re my friend," he says, firmly.

“Thank you.”

Dirk places the paid bill on the table, and returns his wallet to his weekday slacks’ pocket.

“Do you want to stay with me?” he asks. “I was thinking of heading to the cinema today.”

Jake shakes his head.

“Ah, thanks for the offer. But I’ve got drinks all lined up at some new bar down the road in a few. It’ll be quite the bull session with a few old college chums in town from New York and—” Jake pauses. “That is, ah, you’re welcome to come as well. I’d love to introduce you.”

“I’ll pass,” Dirk says, oddly soft. “Do make sure to tell them of your newfound confidence in your masculinity, though.”

Jake winks at him. “Will do.”

Jake stands up and rights himself, tugging his jacket and tie back into something presentable.

“Jake,” Dirk says, voice strange to his own ears.

Jake stops his movements, face perked up in his companions direction.

Dirk’s heart twists. His face instinctively forms a smirk. “I hope your wife can take my opinion into account next time you indulge in the married life.”

Jake grins. “You and me both, Strider. You and me both."


End file.
